Nothing But Net: For the Week of Oct. 29 – Nov. 4

Don’t let anyone ever tell you Rednecks aren’t funny. Larry the Cable Guy is the funniest guy I know. “Git-R-Done!” Good one, you dog! It’s funny, because he spells 67 percent of his catchphrase wrong, but made more money in the past 10 minutes than I will in the next decade. And how Rednecks marry one or two branches over on the family tree. Like that’s even allowed! And then they have a wedding and throw empty shotgun shells instead of rice and make babies with eight fingers and 27 toes. Laugh out loud. Just wait until you see what a few of them can do with some spare bales of hay. Stuff like castles, dinosaurs, inbred children a rocket ship and a Ferris wheel, that’s what. But don’t try to actually ride the Ferris wheel—it’s not safe. Kind of like those carnival rides that come into town and are operated by trucker hat-wearing, gap-toothed guys. “Yew wawna ride the Lewp-de-lewp?” No thanks Jethro, I’m fine on the ground.

Ahh, Nicolas Cage. You’ve done great action movies (Face/Off, Gone in Sixty Seconds), you’ve done great quirky movies (Matchstick Men, The Weatherman), you’ve done terrible, there-are-blind-people-and-I’m-using-my-eyes-to-watch-this movies (National Treasure, Ghost Rider, National Treasure: Book of Secrets, Next, Bangkok Dangerous, The Wicker Man—what’s my word count again?). So I’m glad you signed on to star in Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans as a coked-up crooked cop working with a gang to pay off debt from your drug habit. If you’re gonna start improving your IMDB page, there’s no better time than now—carpe diem, baby! Nice choice of female co-star with Eva Mendes, too. Have you seen her print ads for Calvin Klein? Now I really feel bad for blind people (can you turn the picture of her in lingerie and a garter into Braille?). Things are really looking up…ohhh no. NO. Astro Boy? Ghost Rider 2? Rumors of a third National Treasure? Why are you doing this to yourself Nic? You did voice work for G-Force; that’s penance enough. The first step is realizing you have a problem!

Hey bro! Good to see you! What, this? Oh, that’s my parachute bro—I’m going base jumping! Yeah, it’s like, so gnarly! Nothing gets the blood going like saying sayonara to the rules and jumping off a cliff into a giant hole in the earth! It’s like Viagra for your brain, bro! The idea just came to me the other day. I was sitting in my apartment, watching Fast and the Furious (car chases bro! CAR CHASES!) and drinking Mountain Dew Voltage and I thought, “Driving my Jeep Cherokee isn’t extreme enough!” So I decided to go base jumping! Bro! So rad! Hey, if you don’t want to go, that’s cool! We recorded our sick jumps on video! Stop by my pad after, bro—we’re gonna watch ‘em! And then we’re gonna do keg stands and light fireworks off in the living room and see who can drive the Jeep in a straight line the furthest while blindfolded. Aww, c’mon bro! You’re gonna miss out! It’s gonna be, like, so epic.

I played soccer nearly all my childhood, from age 5 to 16. “Man” sports like football weren’t my cup of tea (ooo how I do love tea). I didn’t enjoy tackling sweaty men and showering with them afterwards (ha ha, take that jocks! I’ve almost got that wedgie out from eighth grade!). But soccer has its fair share of bruising. Most people refuse to sit through a full match to see it, but some intern at Life magazine got a bunch of pictures together to prove it. (*Points to photos*) As you can see, sh*t gets real on the pitch. Just imagine running down the field and getting tripped. Wouldn’t you leap through the air like a gazelle and wince like you’d been shot with a nailgun? That’s painful! Think of the hurt caused by sliding through the turf in spotless white short shorts. Are you crying yet? And THEN imagine getting spat on by the other team and laughed at by your coach and hearing your parents scream, “Brad you run like a midget on stilts!” (*Sniffles*) See, soccer is tough!

Follow me on Twitter!

In the past two weeks, I’ve lost two followers on Twitter. And to those two ex-followers, I say: Who do you think you are? Oh, did I not amuse you enough with my 140-character blasts of awesome? GOOD RIDDANCE! Follow me or die at twitter.com/BradPareso.

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